And another chapter! I'd like to thank my (still splendid) beta reader Paragon of Awesomeness who is great and lovely with their edits and making my story more presentable. I would also like to give a shout-out to all my readers who remembered my story from when I first posted it and still read it and enjoy it :D y'all are awesome and make my day!

Kylar picked at his sleeve. The material was light, but durable, which told him nothing about the Arena. Theoretically, he could ask Yethi if he had any insight based off the clothing, but the wetboy-in-training knew his stylist would just take the opportunity to grope him and say something vaguely theatrical and entirely unhelpful. He glanced at said stylist, who was currently putting the finishing touches on his hair. Yethi had given Kylar a ten minute lecture about the importance of appearance and hygiene in the Arena, which boiled down to having no stray hairs during his grand entrance. Kylar was so relieved that he could now look presentable before the inevitable bloodbath.

He snorted softly when Yethi stepped back to admire his work.

"You're like a cobra," Yethi mused. "Poised, pristine, and ready to strike."

Kylar didn't want to deal with Yethi, even if the bizarre man was keeping his wandering hands away from him for the time being. He shrugged and muttered, "I'm just going to stand on the platform until it's time."

Yethi pouted, but Kylar ignored him and studiously stared at the wall. Besides Durzo's lecture about cutting all emotional ties last night, he hadn't offered him advice—even as Tulii—for the Arena. Kylar hadn't been expecting a mob of supporters, but he felt like his morning had been a gigantic cold shoulder. Mallory's rage was unlikely to wither in the near future—and Kylar doubted she would live long enough for said withering to occur—while Penguid's fleeting presence consisted of gathering Mallory for last minute advice and ridding his District partner of her nerves. He had hardly spared Kylar more than a nod. Durzo's passing gaze offered Kylar no assistance. Apparently, his master was treating the Game as a test. He had trained Kylar to fight any situation a wetboy might encounter on a job, but would that training allow him to adapt and manipulate a victory under the scrutinizing gaze of all the people in Panem without exposing himself? Only time would tell. Of course, if Kylar failed this test, there would be no reprimand or rescue from Durzo. Kylar clenched his fists. He didn't need an aloof master and an uncaring mentor. He wanted something to distract him, to offer him guidance. He was anxious. He knew that he would have extremely vigilant in the Arena, as he couldn't exactly trust his 'allies' to watch his back and the anticipation was killing him. Cameras would constantly be on him at every conceivable angle, and he couldn't afford to look like anything more than a Tribute from District 5 with slightly above average skills and a lot of luck.

The glass outside the platform began to lower. He would be entering the Hunger Games in ten seconds. He ran a hand through his hair, drawing Yethi's narrowed glare, to which Kylar responded with a smirk, but the effect was ruined by blinding light from the now opened ceiling. His platform lurched upwards.

Kylar gulped and attempted to keep his face impassive as he rose to the place that would decide his fate.

~O~

Mallory Beanie squealed as her platform suddenly surged. Penguid let her cry on him last night. She refused to let the Hunger Games steal another tear from her. He had checked her again this morning, answering her questions and soothing her woes—again.

She blinked owlishly as she took in her surroundings. The Arena looked like a small town in ruins surrounded on all sides by jungle. Which was…different. But better than the frozen tundra she dreamed of last night, at least.

Mallory went over the strategy Penguid suggested: Gather supplies and try to find a weapon. They both agreed that her best bet was with stealth and intelligence. As such, Cornucopia was a no-go. She would be slaughtered within a matter of seconds if she even attempted to jump into that fray. So she would have to find another source of supplies. Did the ruined city mean 'old' stores with supplies? Or should she risk the jungle?

She couldn't rely on any outside help. No other Tribute would take her, the one with the lowest score overall, as an ally. She wasn't sure if she could trust Elene not to kill her and Kylar…

She shook her head and quickly gazed at the other tributes. Vi, who was to her immediate left, sneered and waved mockingly, causing Mallory's stomach dropped. Elene was nowhere near her and Kylar was directly across from her. No one in the circle offered salvation to Mallory.

She leaned subtly towards the jungle. She was practical with her chances of survival. She would not make it in the Games. Mallory never divulged her plan to Penguid, as he would try to talk her out of it, despite her morbid logic. She knew the Gamemasters had all sorts of booby traps in the Arean, so no one would blame her if she happened to stumble on one of them. With the booby trap, Mallory had a chance at a relatively swift and painless death, which was far more than what she could expect if she came across one of the other Tributes, let alone the Careers. She could die without shaming her District, her father.

Mallory wasn't going to delude herself; she knew that someone like her didn't stand a chance in this death game. But if she was going to die, she at least wanted to choose the manner in which she did so.

A flash caught her eye. A dagger. It was the most basic weapon, but one she knew how to wield. The problem was that the weapon was on the very outskirts of Cornucopia. She bit her lip. Her strategy began and ended with her avoiding the Cornucopia. With the lowest score among Tributes, her attempting to get anything from Cornucopia would be nothing less than suicidal. And deliberate. She could not let her death look like anything but a tragic accident. But the dagger was maybe twenty feet from her…

The blast of the cannon startled her and, making a split-second decision, she sprinted towards the dagger. She was already far behind Vi, who loped gracefully towards the very core of the Cornucopia. The stronger, more gorgeous redhead completely ignored Mallory's dagger. She breathed with a sigh of relief.

A quick glance over her shoulder revealed the Tribute on her other side as the male Tribute from District 8. After snatching a backpack, he reversed and entered a nearby alleyway. Focus. She narrowed in on the dagger and reached.

A dark shadow passed over her. Mallory squeaked and yanked the dagger towards her. She would slice at her attacker and bolt. She didn't want to throw and lose her only weapon. Not after her suicidal risk. Besides, she didn't trust her aim this early in the Game. The adrenaline was already making her hand quiver.

A solid whack easily stopped her progress and threw her to the ground, with the unforgiving hardness of stone to break her fall. The dagger was wrenched away from her. She blinked groggily at the cold gaze of Vi's District partner.

He sneered down at her. "Start running, little girl. I don't like killing stationary targets."

Mallory's heart thudded as she scrambled away from him.

"There we go…" He brandished the dagger in one hand, the artificial sunlight flickering off the blade.

Mallory knew turning her back was asking for death. She knew it. Her logical side whispered for her to grab a stone and fight. But her survival instinct screamed and sent her vaulting into the air. She squeezed her eyes shut when she heard a dark chuckle behind her. She sprinted towards the alley the District 8 boy had disappeared through, valiantly fighting the mental image of the District 4 tribute preparing to throw the dagger.

Her dagger.

The dagger that lead her towards the Cornucopia.

The dagger that lured her straight to her death.

Mallory angrily wiped the tears streaming down her face. Gods why did she have to die like this?

A bloody gurgle made her glance behind her fleetingly. Her eyes widened when she saw an ax embedded in the District 4 boy's head. She let out a shaky breath but didn't allow herself to stop running. Abandoning the city, she headed towards the jungle. She needed supplies. She needed to be away from the Cornucopia and the Careers. She needed to know whose fateful ax allowed her to survive a little while longer.

~O~

Kylar yanked his ax out of Isaac's head, schooling his face into a blank expression as he ran back towards the Cornucopia. He was relieved to see his Career 'allies' had beaten off the rest of the Tributes. Kylar couldn't afford to kill another Tribute. Not today. Not with all of Panem watching.

At the start of the Game, he had been relieved to see Roth and Amethyst on either side of him. They traded mock bows and not-so-secret grins as they all turned to face the Cornucopia. He allowed them to get ahead of him as he scooped up nearby throwing axes. He'd grimaced because though throwing axes were similar to throwing knives, the technique was altered enough that he'd have to pretend to be sloppy. Which was tedious.

His surveying glance of the town square instantly narrowed when he saw Isaac stalking menacingly towards a terrified Mallory. Not even pausing to think, Kylar tore across the Arena, his only focus to bodily separate Isaac from Mallory. He knew Vi's District partner was demented. Why go after Mallory? She wasn't a threat to anybody, save the blind Tribute from District 12. Isaac raised his hand to throw his dagger at Mallory and Kylar felt a jolt in his heart. He threw his ax. A bloody gurgle escaped Isaac's throat as the ax buried itself neatly in his head. A wave of mixed feelings hit Kylar as he saw Isaac fall, and he bit back swears as he walked to the corpse.

He shouldn't have been able to do that, especially if he wanted everyone in Panem to remain unaware of his true training. His first kill in the Hunger Games shouldn't have been so precise. Kylar shouldn't have allowed the Gamemasters and the people of Panem to see the simplicity and professionalism he had displayed at taking Isaac's life. Durzo was going to kill him if he ever made it out of here. In spite of these feelings, Kylar was forced to bite back a relieved sigh as he watched Mallory successfully get away from Cornucopia and escape into the relative safety of the jungle.

Durzo would kill him for that too.

Kylar acted purely out of instinct when he saw his District partner threatened. His instinct was going to kill him.

His instinct did save Mallory, a tiny voice insisted. Kylar squashed those feelings and put them in a box. He would examine them when he had time, probably after the Games. He needed to avoid contact with Mallory the rest of the Game, he decided as he reached Cornucopia. Despite the fact her survival faintly eased his worries.

"Hey, I've got an extra sword here, take it," Roth called, tossing the sword at Kylar.

He caught it midair by the hilt and offered a sarcastic salute. Panem had already seen what he could do with an ax, and the Gamemasters had all witnessed his prowess with swords, knives, and spears. He mentally crossed precise spear throwing off his Hunger Game repertoire, and decided that he would have to avoid touching any weapon expertly besides swords and axes if he could help it. Knives would no longer be an option for him either; he couldn't afford to raise further suspicion, especially with the Gamemasters. It would lead to too many questions about him when all this was over. Of course, that was assuming he survived the Games in the first place. And Durzo.

Suffice to say, Kylar wasn't off to a great start. The Games hadn't even been going on for half an hour and he already fucked up with his too precise kill. Not that he could bring himself to care too much because his actions lead to Mallory's escape. Which he felt should worry him a bit, especially since he knew for a fact that the girl was going to die in this arena and he just delayed the inevitable. Night Angels, why did Mallory have to be the other District 5 Tribute?

"Not everyone was a pussy and circled the edges of Cornucopia and fun," Amethyst mocked. "We salvaged decent weapons."

Kylar knew that in the Hunger Games, politics were just as essential, if not more, as fighting. So nipping that comment in the bud was vital. "I wasn't aware you relied on my skill so heavily, Amethyst. I thought covering our flanks might be important. It's pretty much Survival 101 to make sure that you don't get overtaken from behind."

"'Flanks,' right," Roth leered. "Did you actually pull your weight and kill people?"

"What does it look like?" Kylar goaded as he twirled his bloody ax around. Roth cracked a demented grin.

"Let's divide the supplies," Morals interrupted, his eyes flickering towards the trio with what could only be described as resigned disdain. Kylar wondered how many people—tributes and viewers—expected him, Roth, and Amethyst to remain allies after the Careers inevitably dissipated.

"Who died and made you president?" Roth challenged.

"Dividing supplies is the smart thing to do, moron," Vi snapped. "We're working together, after all."

Kylar rolled her eyes when she glanced at him in what he supposed was Vi's attempt at appearing threatening. He forced a yawn.

"We'll need to figure out how we'll split and guard our food supply," Morals continued as though there had been no interruption.

Kylar glanced around at his Career allies. Roth, Amethyst, Morals, Vi were no surprise, though he frowned momentarily at the sight of a girl he faintly recognized hovering by Morals before belatedly realizing she was Roth's District partner. The fact he didn't know her name made him wonder about the probable rift between her and Roth. Seeing Pamianna amid the Careers made him raise an eyebrow. He mentally applauded the District 3 Tribute for managing to convince the rest of the Careers to accept her. He assumed her ditzy façade—her bad ditzy façade—would have gotten her killed by the other Careers, but apparently they were either oblivious or just didn't care. Pamianna's perceptive gazes and analytical way of thinking had apparently allowed her to adapt her behavior accordingly depending on the Career's reactions, which gave away her intelligence as both a competitor and a threat. The male District 10 Tribute wasn't anywhere in the Career group however, which Kylar expected. With any luck, the giant brute would die before their little alliance fell apart.

"Where's Isaac?" Vi said. Her deadpan voice instantly drew everyone's attention.

A hush fell over the Cornucopia.

Kylar felt the cameras zoom in on his face.

"Where is Isaac?" Vi demanded, glaring at each Career.

Forcing down the instinctive desire to panic, he kept his face void of any emotion, which was more telling than any expression. At least with Vi.

Vi stalked towards him. "What did you do to Isaac?"

"Didn't realize he meant so much to you," Kylar muttered.

She swung her knife towards his face, but he simply sneered as he blocked her swipe with his ax. Furiously, she rushed towards him. Her knife feint distracted him from anticipating her slide that swept his legs out from under him while her other arm grappled with his sword arm. He hooked a leg around her to bring the redhead down, but she neatly arched her body towards his and landed on him, holding him squarely to the ground with his arms pinned. As she glowered down at him, Kylar felt her knife blade press lightly on the veins in his wrist.

"Where is Isaac?"

"Dead."

Vi froze for half a second, but that was the only opening Kylar needed. He kicked her up and away from him, taking a ready stance with both weapons the instant he regained his footing.

"You killed my District partner?"

"He tried to kill my District partner," Kylar said, forcing a nonchalant tone.

"You don't even like her," the redhead snarled.

"Well, I could let her go and die when I could so obviously save her," Kylar spat. "How would my District react if I ignored her screams for mercy?"

Vi let out a frustrated scream, but, despite Kylar blinking and his hands tightening around his weapons, she made no move to attack him.

"Fuck you guys, I'm going to scout the area," Vi hissed. "But let me make one thing clear: this isn't over, Ky. The second I decide you're of no further use, I'll kill you."

"You think I'm useful?" Kylar asked condescendingly. He couldn't let the sponsors or other Tributes know how much her threat bothered him. Vi was dangerous. She was already a strong contender in the Games, her obvious combat prowess and wiliness to use her sexual appeal to manipulate both her fellow Tributes and the audience lead everybody to that simple fact. But Kylar's instincts were telling him that there was another lethal element about her, something that Vi was hiding until the ideal moment. And that feeling terrified him.

"Besides being a buffer? No," Vi snipped. She sheathed her knife and threw a crossbow on her back. With the wind tugging her hair, she looked quite formidable as she stalked away.

Kylar forced himself to calm down. He had always known that Vi was going to be one of his top competitors; her open death threat changed nothing in his strategy.

"I thought you were gonna die," Roth chuckled.

"Kind of the point of the Games, isn't it?"

Morals began talking to Pamianna and Roth's District partner about how to ration food and set up a secure perimeter in order to protect their food supply, but not before giving the wetboy one last look. In spite of himself, Kylar had to glance away from Morals' calculating eyes. He felt vulnerable. He needed to think. He needed to be alone.

"I'm going to make sure we didn't miss any supplies on the outskirts of the Cornucopia," Kylar said shortly, turning his back on the others and ignoring Roth's response. His plan to avoid the limelight was going horribly astray.

Yep, Durzo was definitely going to kill him if he ever got out of here.